They just stopped by to pick up my headshot to turn into the program covers and posters to advertize Proof. How bizarre it's going to be to see my watercolor face all over the place...
I wonder what it feels like for those models who do covers for bodice-ripping romance novels.
I got the role of Catherine, the slightly unstable younger daughter of a crazy mathmetician who takes care of him in his decline. She also has a fling with Harold, one of her fathers former students, now a math professor in a rock band that plays "Imaginary" songs. And her sister is trying to sell the family home and move her from Chicago to New York where she can really keep an eye on her.
I just got done with the audition for Proof, by David Auburn. There were 9 people there and 4 parts. I was among the 7 who were still reading in circles at 4. By 7:30 all of our fates for the next two and a half months will be sealed.
I'm teaching myself to play guitar. It's very sad sounding right now. I know four chords, sometimes.
I saw Bean today. She came into the shop to suprise me! Was I ever! I went over to her house tonight and had dinner with her and her mom. Mostly we talked highschool alumni tidbits. The usual, who got married, who didn't, who has lovely children now, and how is it we're the only people we mutually know that aren't having a heigh-ho time in suburbia.
(That is a gross overgeneralization. Actually, none of my close friends are married yet.)
And now Chris and I have pledged to each other that we're going to stay clean. We really and truly are! We've given our sacred oath and promise. In San Francisco we won't know a single soul that uses it and it will be easy to stay off.
~from Go Ask Alice
It's a completely new world I'm exploring, and you can't even conceive the wide new doors that are opening up before me. I feel like Alice in Wonderland. Maybe Lewis G. Carroll was on drugs too.
Ya think?
(From Go Ask Alice, the diary of a 15-year-old drug user)
"Oh! There's no cookies!"
"Nope, no cookies."
"There aren't any cookies!"
"No cookies?"
"Why aren't there any cookies?"
"I guess they forgot to put any out."
"Yep, 'cause there's no cookies."
"Look, Hannah, they don't have any cookies for you."
"No cookies?"
"No cookies."
"Why no cookies???!!!"
"I guess they forgot to put any out."
Nope, no cookies..."
If they want cookies that badly, they should try donating them sometime.
After being a hermit for a long time post-tour, suddenly my social calander is quite full.
Friday I worked four hours for the Saturday manager after running errands all morning. I bought new pins at JoAnn's. As soon as the store closed I went wild in the vintage clothing room looking for a dress to wear to the theater. I found the perfect one. Black knit 1950's scooped back dress, three quarter length sleeves and a t-length skirt with a foot border of satin. Only it was just a bit big - me not having a pointy bra and all. So I did a quick alteration job that will be easily taken back out. I put on seamed black stockings and my highest heels. There's so little dressing up in the Northwest. Guys wear flannel shirt to the Seattle Ballet. The ensemble was completed with black earrings and a pearl necklace
Kevin and I ate dinner in a hurry, having discovered the show started at 8 and not half an hour later. We got to the show in plenty of time to be seated next to the older brother of the guy we went to see. The show was good. I was leary of a "rock n' roll" version of A Midsummer Night's Dream, but the dialogue was in tact. They added snippets of 50's songs, and the costuming was vintage. I found myself getting caught up in "the magic" in spite of myself, and had a great time.
Afterwards, Kris invited Kevin, Denise and myself to hang out at a local pub. I called my boss to establish an alibi and promise that I wouldn't drink, and off we went. As I walked in, Kris' brother said "It's Cheers." I didn't understand until later. It truly was a "place where everybody knows your name." One guy came up to Kevin, "Hey man! I remember you! I used to treat you like s**t. Man, I'm so sorry." And Denise was getting snuggled by some random guy who wanted her phone number.
Sunday, finally!, Jeff came into town. We went out for *dun* *DUN* *DUN* Bur-ger-r Ra-anch. I hadn't had fry sauce since I moved back. After that we drove around and amused ourselves, doing nothing of importance. But, we ended it with Ice Cream from Coldstone. Hurrah. I couldn't finish mine.
